


your hands hold both my moon and stars

by sorrowing



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Donghyuck is in love, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Unrequited Love, mark is not aha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrowing/pseuds/sorrowing
Summary: A vision in the moonlight, he illuminated in the dark like a little beacon of free-will and broken fragments of eternal tragedy.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	your hands hold both my moon and stars

**Author's Note:**

> devils don't have halos. they don't.

In its entirety, the moon undergoes eight distinct phases before it returns to its original position, before the cycle starts again.

Mark Lee was inconsistent and a little reckless, somewhat ragged around the edges and then soft heaven everywhere in between. He had a sort of pearlescent beauty, ethereal in the sense that he wore his masculinity like a shroud, not a weapon— _never_ a weapon.

Mark was also beacon in the darkness of Donghyuck’s mind, mellow and ever-present. One way or another, Donghyuck’s thoughts would always resort back to him, the outline of his aura at the edge of his bed, the messy mop of hair he wore like that of a devil’s halo, and lips that bruised easily and melted like sugar underneath Donghyuck’s own.

At some point in Donghyuck’s life, Mark also became the reason for his gradual insanity; just touching and never grasping.

It was the desire to take and to never let go, Donghyuck felt deep within him. To drag Mark from his all-mighty position and pummel him into the ground, taint any innocence left untouched. To replace all his sweetness until he turned sour, ruined for anyone else and disgustingly perfect for Donghyuck.

It fleeted through Donghyuck’s mind like an intrusive thought, and no matter how hard he willed the immoral images to go away, he couldn’t help but indulge and savour the taste of what he imagined to be Mark’s ruin, or to be ruined in turn; an ungodly sensation that ran deeper than his bones and into a darkness that would never dissipate.

Where Mark was always fluid, Donghyuck remained a constant in his life. And if ever Mark felt himself fleeting from the grips of a dream turned reality, he knew that ultimately, Donghyuck would be there to ground him (even if it was with the harsh indents of his nails raking down milky skin, and bruises, and kisses that steered off the edge of painful).

Donghyuck disliked Mark when he changed, always a reminder that Mark would never be truly his; simply not in his nature to stay desolate for too long. So, when Donghyuck lay there awake, he observed silently as Mark basked in the moonlight that shone through the opened windows.

Mark never liked them closed; restless, always feeling slightly confined in the dark space of Donghyuck’s bedroom.

He was so beautiful like this, when he wasn’t moving around and trying to escape through Donghyuck’s fingertips.

Gone were the thoughts of sin and immorality, and instead replaced with an emotion that consumed his body whole, a love so overwhelming he shuddered beneath its suffocating weight.

Mark was there, present, and Donghyuck felt so lucky he thought he might die, his heart drowning in emotions, filled to the brim until he lost his breath. His heart, a heart that no longer belonged to him (after all, he had given it away the moment the two had locked eyes the very first time; a dark night, wide eyes and alcohol thrumming in their veins. Greedy and a little lonely, they were overcome with a lust only satisfied after they had tasted it all).

Donghyuck reached out his fingers hesitantly, and hovered over Mark’s bare shoulders before running down the expanse of his toned arms, revelling in the feeling of smooth skin. He repeated the movement unconsciously, only stopping with a small gasp as he realised his unrelenting grasp on Mark’s arm, coaxing the other awake rather suddenly.

Mark’s eyes fluttered tantalisingly slow, a confused frown making its way onto his soft features. He furrowed his eyebrows at Donghyuck, pointedly irritated at the intrusion of his slumber.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled, closing his eyes for another moment as the last tendrils of sleep emanated from his body and into the still night air.

Donghyuck watched in awe as Mark’s head twisted towards him (graceful even when graceless), and resorted to wrapping his arms around the older’s neck insistently, suddenly craving the need to have his skin, warm and soft from sleep, flush against his own. Donghyuck’s head fell onto the latter's pillow, uncaring that he had quite literally invaded his personal space.

“I can’t stop thinking,” He mumbled into the crook of Mark’s neck, a small sigh escaping his lips as he felt the other caress his back languidly.

After a short-lived internal battle, he mustered the courage and planted a quick kiss on Mark’s neck, the sound amplified as it resonated into the silent air surrounding them, “the world is too quiet.”

He felt the stirring of Mark’s chest beneath him, and before he knew it, he was being smothered into the pillows of his own bed, Mark’s body leaving barely any room to breathe, “Can it wait till tomorrow?”, he mumbled softly.

Donghyuck frowned as Mark brushed him off so easily, _he didn’t understand._

How could he explain to him that tomorrow was too far away, and Mark even further?

There was no promise of a tomorrow, there never was—not with _him_. Was there a way he could get him to stay, long enough to express the true feelings buried deep within him and say, _I love you, and after all this time, it’s killing me, but it’s you and I can’t take it any longer._

Was there a way he could make him fall for Donghyuck with the same intensity, with the same burning desire?

He couldn’t. 

Still, the younger stared at the ceiling with a clench of fists and hummed with a short nod, “Of course.”

And Donghyuck hated it. He hated the way Mark’s shoulder’s relaxed instantly in his hold, and hated the way he couldn’t stop staring at him with want, despite the obvious rejection.

Mark moulded his body into Donghyuck’s completely, his head resting steadily on Donghyuck’s naked chest — and the younger didn’t know whether to scream and push him away as the familiar feeling of agony recoiled in his stomach, or to pull him closer and swear to never let go.

He tilted his head downwards despite the heaviness in his throat, blurred vision met with the crown of Mark’s head. A vision in the moonlight, he illuminated in the dark like a little beacon of free-will and broken fragments of eternal tragedy. He could never know the way Donghyuck desired him, something much more than the push and pull of two bodies merging against one another, and the kind of intimacy he yearned would reach past the surface of Mark’s heart.

Stupid, stupid boy. He had fallen for someone who didn’t love him, didn’t even _like_ him. Not in the way he wanted, anyways.

So he lay there, listening to the quiet sounds of Mark’s even breaths and tried to stop the fluttering in his stomach when he nuzzled his head into the crook of Donghyuck’s neck. 

Their bodies intertwined the way a rose would kiss a daisy, sharp and heady; until the thorns got tangled in innocent, fragile petals and the whole thing fell apart. Real, so unbelievably _real,_ and yet the pain Donghyuck felt stabbing at his heart served as the only reminder that what they had, what he felt, lying there together in a mess of limbs, was just built on a lie illustrated by his own fantasies.

Even still, with his heart aching and hopelessly in love, Donghyuck couldn’t help but get lost in him. It was the long length of his eyelashes that looked almost unreal, and pink lips shaped into a small pout (lips that Donghyuck had tasted and could never tire of, lips that had been carved into the crevices of his body until he burned alight), that kept Donghyuck sane, kept him coming back for more every single time. Even if it meant he’d lost himself too.

Donghyuck tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing the urge to litter the elder’s face with kisses in a way he'd never wanted to with anyone but then. 

Not until right then.

Instead, he swallowed his urges down reluctantly, the feeling of defeat crawling over him intrusively, and painstakingly slow. His vision, already blurred from unshed tears, clouded as he felt tell-tale signs of drops make their way down his flushed cheeks, still warm and rosy from before.

“Tomorrow.” He whispered, an exhausted, broken whisper, into the same quiet he had gradually come to despise. After all, what was Donghyuck’s world without the sound of Mark’s song and laughter echoing in his ears?

The smaller boy curled his legs around Mark’s body in an attempt to get closer; to crawl inside of him and to stay, for as long as this would last.

If Donghyuck couldn’t have Mark forever, then he would have him like this. 

He could wait. He _would_ wait, even if it broke him into tiny little pieces, even if there was nothing left of him after everything had been said and done. Like the darkness that buried the moon’s light, he would engulf and let himself be engulfed; till the moon would come back to phase one and blind Donghyuck with his luminescence, all over again.

Because, like the moon, Mark was fleeting and ever-changing, although Donghyuck’s love was not.

**Author's Note:**

> well, goodbye fic virginity. this was just an excuse for me to wax poetic about mark lee, do not misunderstand!


End file.
